Snippet #2470718

"Curiosity."

Perhaps not the most enlightening of responses. Or perhaps it was. Much can be learned from omissions, just as it can be from statements. She advanced further into the galley, now definitely inside and near enough to Nixon without being too close.

"I wanted to see the stars. Far planets and ecologies, distant peoples, histories entirely distinct from our own... Forgive me for being so sentimental, but I've always wanted to see an alien sunset."

She smiled for a brief second, then nodded slightly and was back to normal. To an outside observer, it would seem strangely out of character for her, as if she'd just had an emotional moment of the sort she rarely expressed. Perhaps she had. Perhaps being in space, away from those who knew her, had made her feel slightly freer to be honest about herself. Or maybe she was still collecting data.

Analysis of the foodstuffs available revealed little. Pretty generic supplies, optimized primarily for long-term storage and nutrient density, though, fortunately, not entirely. There were a decent number of things clearly chosen to provide interesting meals, as opposed to simply maintaining biological functions. In particular, a supply of chocolate would need to be kept from falling entirely into the hands of certain members of the crew - Ms. Quinn and the young mechanic came to mind. Perhaps better they weren't immediately made aware of it...

Wait, "young"? The age difference was only one year.

Minerva took a moment to note that thought for later analysis, then turned away from the promptly-closed cabinet where she'd found the chocolate and back to Nixon.

"Macaroni would be nice. Thank you, Mr. Moreau."

She gave a slight bow, a habitual gesture of respect she'd picked up from her parents. But a slight smile was, to a particularly observant observer, visible on her face. She knew it would bother him, and was perhaps enjoying -

"And you?", she asked before she could finish that thought. "What brings you here?"